Intermission
by jjeffreys2k19
Summary: Tells the story between the times of Fallout:3 Broken Steel and Fallout: 4, from the perspective of a Knight of the Brotherhood and centers around the BoS' actions. I am quite new to writing a story, so I would appreciate a constructive criticism.
1. Chapter 01: The Funeral

Intermission

Ch. 01: The Funeral

It has been two months, since we the Brotherhood of Steel, with the assistance from the Lone Wanderer, defeated the Enclave at their last stronghold of Adams Air Force Base.

The Lone Wanderer, a simple whisper of the name inspires hope in some and terror in others. Every since he came out of vault 101, the Capital Wasteland has been in a storm of turmoil. His emergence caused many other trouble to surface as well. Especially in the form of Brotherhood's old enemy, the Enclave. It has been said, that in order for anything to get better, it must become a whole lot worse first.

Thankfully, what he brought was not limited to trouble. One of his biggest accomplishment is the locating of super mutant factory. His assassination of president Eden and Augustus Autumn was instrumental in the downfall of the Enclave and ending its reign of terror. Not to mention his efforts in the completion of the Project Purity. Although that has to be mostly credited to his father, James, and Rivet City scientist, Doctor Li.

Project Purity alone has helped the wasteland immensely. No longer, did anyone need to drink dirty and irradiated water, or travel to dangerous places to scavenge for bottles of pre-war alcohols. They can now nourish themselves with the Brotherhood branded 'Aqua Pura'. The Brotherhood's policy of not providing water to raiders and slavers have made some of them to change their ways and find employment with local settlements as guards, and even some has chose to become our initiate. The water caravan, which delivers the Aqua Pura to every corner of the wasteland, has increased the connectivity between the settlements. The caravan guards, that protects the said caravan, doubles as a patrol. This has increased the safety of the wasteland to an all time high.

In the end, everything has turned out well, but the journey to it was a stressful one. Elder Lyons, who commanded the Brotherhood of Steel ever since it first set its foot in the Capital Wasteland had to face the full blunt of the stress throughout the journey. Even before the emergence of the Lone Wanderer, he had to face the Outcast rebellion and super mutant infestation. These are too much to handle for any healthy man, let alone an elderly. It's no wonder it was too much for the old man.

Now the old man lies lifeless on top of a funeral pyre at the center of the Citadel. By looking at the attendants of this funeral, it is clearly evident how much the late Elder meant to the people of the wasteland. The courtyard of the Citadel, in any normal day it is filled with training initiates. However, on this day, people that can be seen here is not limited to the Brotherhood members. Rivet City guards and citizens, traders from Canterbury Commons, are just tip of the iceberg. Even the Outcasts have offered armistice just to come and see him off.

With the conclusion of the war, everyone thought that at last it was the beginning of an peaceful era for the wasteland. But everyone now realized, the death of the elder will only bring another age of turmoil.

The fact that he died without specifying his successor didn't help a single bit. Sentinel Lyons was the obvious choice. But right now, she is just a crying, shriveling mess, with her current mental health at rock bottom. Rightfully so, being the daughter of the now deceased and all that. So, until she recovers, not happening. Henry Casdin is a good leader and was a close friend of former elder, but him being the leader of Outcast makes him not eligible. This leaves only one candidate, Senior Scribe Reginald Rothchild. The only saving grace in this situation is that everyone is smart enough to realize all this.

The funeral is beginning, each person speaking a few words of goodbye to the elder and placing a flower next to him on the pyre.

All the while, Three Dog broadcasting the grave news of Elder Lyons death. His usual cheerful tone gone, now he reminds all the people in the wasteland to keep up the "good fight" with a sorrowful voice.

Finally, the last person finished placing the flower on the pyre. Scribe Rothchild stepped up to the pyre with a torch, tears in his eyes. He slowly lowered the torch and lit the pyre on fire.

"Ad Victoriam!"

Both the Brotherhood and the Outcast shouted in unison, almost instinctively.

Even with all the grieving going on, the weather is good. Too good, insultingly so. Even a non-superstitious person can tell, this is not a good omen. Not one bit.


	2. Chapter 02: New Assignment

Ch. 02: New Assignment

Standing in front of the former Jefferson Memorial, now the famous Project Purity...

In a power armor, strapping a drum of Aqua Pura on to the back of a brahmin...

"God, how did I get this dull job." I mumbled. But seriously. This is a job befitting of a squire. If a power armor is required; then, an initiate should be assigned. So, why? Why me, a "knight" of the Brotherhood?

"What was that, knight?" A voice came from the side. I turned and saw Scribe Bigsley in a very bad mood.

Crap. The speaker on my power armor must have been on. "Nothing. Sir." I replied immediately. The last thing I need now is a bickering Bigsley on my back.

Weird. It's not uncommon that the scribe is in a bad mood, but today is a whole different matter.

"Well, if you are looking for a job more suited for your rank, I have one for you." The scribe said. Great. I know this tone. It's the tone used to give out a "quest" as everyone calls it. It's the tone most associated with the Lone Wanderer. So basically, I'm his substitute while he is away. Hm… where is he anyway…?

"You should already know this, but the Enclave had a significant stockpile of advanced technology stashed away deep inside Adams Air Force Base. Elder Rothchild has tasked many scribes to sort, catalogue, and reverse engineer those technology. Including five scribes under my command." Said Bigsley practically shouting. "Now, my workload has doubled. No, tripled. Oh, it will be fine. It's not like I already had tons of work." He continued, with venomous sarcasm.

Ah, that explains why he is ticked. "So, what is the task?" I inquired, apathetically.

"You see, those five scribes have not yet departed. And, there are couple of problems concerning their departure. First and foremost is the rumor of increased raider activity in the route to the base. Second is the postponement of the project to utilize the confiscated Enclave vertibirds. The latter should have been able to circumvent the problem of the former. But unfortunately, that is not happening any time soon. So, you are to contend with the first." Bigsley explained, without his usual sarcastic way.

"I see, an escort mission." I acknowledged. "When should I begin."

"The scribes are already waiting. You can begin when you are ready. Preferably as soon as possible." I groaned at Bigsley's statement.

If it's just me, I can get to Adams Air Force Base in just under a day. But an escort of five non-combatants will take at least three days; if not five. Also, if I have to constantly watch out for raiders, it will take more time; I would be lucky if I can get there in a week.

"I will depart early tomorrow." I replied.

"Good. Well, have fun dealing with the water caravans until then." The scribe said as he turned to head inside the Jefferson Memorial.

His statement sent shivers down my spine, and I turned my head around to see a line of brahmins ready to be loaded with Aqua Pura drums. Ah that's right… I almost forgot how much I dreaded this job.

"Actually, I'll start on that right now." I said, hastily. Just in time before scribe Bigsley entered the building.

He turned around and said. "Wonderful." Wicked smile spread across his face. Damn, that manipulative guy. Damn him.


	3. Chapter 03: Departure

Ch. 03: Departure

The Citadel - A Ring, Mission Briefing Room.

"Sir! Reporting for duties, sir!" A young voice comes out of a power armor; standing in front of a group of scribes. Practically shouting.

"And who are you?" I asked.

"Initiate White, at your command, sir!" A shouting reply came back. Never heard that name. Must have been a squire until recently. Most likely an orphan rescued from raiders or super mutants.

"Right." I acknowledged. "As you should already know, our mission is to escort these five scribes..." I said, pointing at the scribes. "To the former Enclave stronghold called Adams Air Force Base."

"Should be no problem. Travel to the White House, then just sit back and watch the ghouls get torn to pieces by the metro. Right, sir?" spoke the time in a normal volume.

"Not to be a bearer of bad news..." One of the scribes spoke up. "but the train is out of commission since two days ago."

"Oh?" The initiate replied. Neither unnerved nor disappointed by the news.

Weird. New initiates are usually afraid of traveling far away from the Citadel on foot. Also, they should be hyped about riding a pre-war tech. Something is off.

While the conversation between the initiate and the scribe was going on, I walked over to a couch and sat down. Even with power armor on, strapping a barrel full of water onto brahmins are tiresome work. Speaking of weird, there are two more. For one, what crazy idiot decided that briefing room was an appropriate place for a couch; and second, how is this couch able to support the combined weight of me and my T-51b power armor.

"Now, that all of you know the situation…" I interrupted, as the conversation begun to sidetrack. "I expect to arrive at the base within five days."

"Five days, sir?" Another scribe asked. "By my calculations, it should only take one to two days."

"Yes five. Do you know why? Because I know for a fact that at least one of you will get injured on the way, and we have to stop to let him or her recuperate." I said, annoyed. "Any more questions?"

"No, sir!" Came the reply.

"Good. Make sure you have enough gear to last at least five days. If not, you have an hour to prepare. We will meet at the entrance then. Make sure not to be late. I want to get past the super mutant territory while the sun is still up, and rendezvous with our brethren at the obelisk by sunset. Now, dismissed." I told the group, as I got out of the couch.

* * *

As soon as I opened the doors to the armory, I was greeted by scribe Peabody. The Citadel's residing weapons specialist. Perfect, the load out he recommends never fails to carry out a mission. However the mission becomes hectic.

"Ah, knight. I'm surprised to see you. Shouldn't you be loading a brahmin or something?" He asked, mockingly.

"Well, I got lucky and got assigned to an escort mission. Say, shouldn't you be out in the field?" I replied, with a touch of counter mockery. Everyone knows that the scribe Peabody desperately wants to go out and do "field work"; so much so that he envies those under his command that can.

Ignoring my retort, he bent down next to a crate of weapons to continue taking inventory. "So, what are you looking for today?"

"A heavy weapon and a mid range non-automatic rifle. Also a side arm for external (outside of power armor) combat." I said, purposefully making the details vague. I would rather have the weapons specialist make the choices than screw up on the selection myself.

"A fat man, a laser rifle, and a laser pistol?" He said; as he got up from the bending position, with a fat man in one hand and a mini nuke in another.

Oh, that's right. I almost forgot that during the squire years, we were the two most rambunctious jokesters in the history of the Brotherhood. "Fat man!? Are you crazy? I'm going on a escort mission, not extermination!" I replied, barely holding my laughter to sound shocked.

"Oh right. A gatling laser then?" He recommended, amused.

"Nah, I'm more of 'bathing in the smell of gun powder' type."

"Gee, you sound like a tribal. A minigun, a hunting rifle, and a 10mm pistol then?"

Minigun; a heavy weapon that is most effective as a fear factor than anything else. Hunting rifle; powerful and has good range, and the best part is that both raiders and super mutants are using it. So, by dispatching them, I will never run out of ammunition. 10mm pistol; all around good weapon.

"Yeah, that sounds good." I applauded his selection.

* * *

Flying out of the Citadel's B ring, I mumbled to myself. "Geez, I wasted too much time talking." As I stumble through the bailey weighed down by a minigun holstered across my shoulder, I heard Paladin Gunny shouting at the new recruits and squires.

I reached the entrance just in time. Unfortunately, as I expected, all the member of this mission were already there; waiting.

"Sir, you are late." said the initiate. Oh good. At least his voice is normal and not shouting.

"What do you mean late. I'm two seconds early." I corrected. Give me a break. Even if I was late, it's no longer than a minute.

"You're the one that said 'don't be late,' sir." A scribe said, with a disapproving look.

At that moment, I saw a figure shift at the corner of my eyes. Paladin Bael, the gate keeper. I can just tell that under his stoic face, he is desperately keeping his laughter down.

Him and I, never got along. He enjoys watching the misfortune of others. He even locked me out of the Citadel once. A definite wasteland certified asshole.

"Fine, let's just get the show on the road, shall we?" I said, as I returned my attention to my group.

And so we left the Citadel behind us and walked into the sunset… or some crap like that. Also, the sun is still high...


	4. Chapter 04: First Hour

Ch. 04: First Hour

A loud bang with a flash of orange, followed by a pinging sound from a shoulder pad of my power armor.

I instinctively ducked for cover. Seriously? We haven't even been traveling for 30 minutes, and we are already getting attacked! I turned my head to check on my group. Three scribes quickly sprinted across the street to hide behind a building. Initiate White ducked behind a rusted husk of a sedan, followed by the other two scribes. Not a bad reaction from bunch of rookies.

Speaking of cover, it seems that I'm the only one still out in the open. Urg… look at me, standing right in the middle of a street, scope aimed at my head, and not even bothering to take cover. No wonder the elder is reluctant to promote me to paladin.

Another gunshot. Immediately after, my head was shot back, accompanied by a clang of metal hitting metal. Years of training and experience kicked in and subconsciously calculated where the bullet came from. By studying the way my head got hit, I can tell that the bullet came from directly in front.

I scanned the surrounding area. Straight road heading northward, array of buildings to the left, and the Potomac River on the right. Straight ahead is a bridge that overpass the road that we are currently on and spans across the river.

"The bridge!" A scribe with a black baseball cap shouted, as he pulled out a scoped laser pistol. Yeah, yeah, thanks captain obvious.

Focusing my attention solely on the bridge, the bridge was built high, to accommodate for vehicles on the road that it's overpassing. From here, it looks like we can't access the road on the bridge. The foundation is covered by collapsed building, and only the brick made archways just below the bridge is visible. I looked for any evidence of the shooter. But, nothing. I can neither see nor sense any movement on the bridge.

Wait a minute… I remember the Lone Wanderer once mentioning a place like this. A bridge spanning across the Potomac, raiders inhabiting the underside… in the archways...

Son of a gun! How did I not suspect something so obvious? I was so focused on top of the bridge, that I didn't even bother to check the shadows underneath. Well, this is another reason I'm not getting promoted. If any knight hear about this, they'll never let me live it down.

"The space under the bridge! Between the archways!" I shouted back at the baseball cap scribe. He nodded in response.

Now that I know where the enemy or enemies are, I calmly un-holstered the minigun. They're hiding in the shadows and I can't see them. So, why bother aiming? I pointed the barrels of the minigun in the general direction of the shooter, and pressed the trigger.

First bullet left the barrel of the gun, followed by second, then third. Fire rate quickly increasing as the barrels spun faster and faster. Within five seconds, the barrels reached top speed and continuously spits lead in a ray of orange.

As the bullets make contact with the archways, pieces of bricks, concrete, and shrapnel are shot out into the air. And of course, there are occasional spray of blood and torn limbs. Initiate White and the baseball cap scribe joins the fight. The initiate, with his sniper rifle, finishes off those that were desperately trying to get away after being shot up by the minigun.

Suddenly, a raider who appears to be the leader, jumped down on to the road; with a sledgehammer in each hand. Then, as suddenly as he appeared, he charged. Flinging the sledgehammers wildly, and with a terrifying bellow. Before I could react, a red beam of laser flashed from the left. Instantly vaporizing the raider.

A young scribe perked up from his hiding spot behind the car and exclaimed. "Wow, good shot!" The baseball cap scribe smiled proudly, at the comment.

The young scribe was immediately dragged back down by Initiate White and promptly scolded. He was obviously new to the wasteland. Never expose yourself, unless the area is pacified.

"Hey, baseball cap. Follow me." I told the scribe. Well that was rude. Damn the raiders for attacking us before we even had a chance for introduction. "Rest of you, stay here." I continued.

A building several feet in front of us, is collapsed in a way that a side of it can be used as a ramp to get to the archways. I holstered the minigun and took out the 10mm pistol, readying for a close range combat. Instead of going toward the building, I ran in the opposite direction, towards an entrance of a building next to it.

The entrance is fairly ordinary. Rectangular double doors made of glass, with two metal pipes placed diagonally on each door, forming a V-shape when the doors are closed. Which serves as both a handle and a decoration. These doors must have been beautiful once upon a time, but a couple centuries of exposure to radiation has stained the glass a murky green.

Pushing the doors in, I stormed into the building; with the scribe in tow.

First thing that came into view was a reception counter. This building is an office complex; just like many other buildings around here. Which means that there are stairs on the other side of the wooden door, right behind the counter.

With a running start, I easily jumped over the counter, and used the momentum to charge through the door. The door broke under the force of the power armor crashing into it. Just as I expected, through the door, revealed a stairwell. Not wasting even a second, I begun climbing the stairs in large, power armor assisted leaps. Several seconds later, I reached the third floor of the building. I turned left to follow the hallway, that leads all the way to the northern wall. If my calculation, or rather intuition, is correct; just on the other side of this wall, should be the southern side of the collapsed building. With that in mind, I pulled back my left arm into a punching position. I diverted large portion of the power armor's energy onto the wrist mounted Ballistic Fist. Then, delivered a powerful strike into the sturdy concrete wall.

The wall shattered into millions of pieces. Chunks of concrete and asbestos shot outwards by the impact, while smaller pieces became dust clouds that temporarily obscured vision. The dust set a few moments later. Just as I thought, on the other side of the wall, now a gaping hole, was a slope created by the side of the collapsed building. I made a large jump onto the slope. I turned my head around just for a second to make sure that the scribe has managed to follow me. Then I began running up the wall.

"What the hell?" was the first thing that came to my mind. Between the archways lay few torn up raiders; covered in debris and red ash. This was obviously the result of my minigun and scribe's laser pistol, and totally expected. One thing that caught my eyes in this mess was the lack of weapons on the bodies. Well, that's not totally correct. There are weapons but not the ones they should have had. First, the first shot that hit my shoulder pad was definitely a 10mm. Second, I can say with certainty that second shot that hit my helmet came from a hunting rifle. Third, the returning fire I got while rampaging with the minigun, should have been from an assault rifle. Yet, all I see on the ground are few 9mms, couple of sawed-off, and some melee weapons.

Wait… wasn't there at least another one here? Maybe the survivor ran? That is the most likely case; but usually, they obsessively stand their ground and fight till the last man. I mean come on, do they really think they have a chance? Maybe this one finally had a good sense to grab some better weapons and leg it.

I run up to both sides of the archways in quick succession scanning the surround area. Man, that raider was either really quick or really stealthy. Seeing that no threats remained in the vicinity, I gave the rest of my group an all clear signal.

Few moments later, we joined up with them on the road above the space, prepared to continue on our journey. If all goes well, we can finally have a chance to introduce ourselves.


	5. Chapter 05: Bridge Fight

Ch. 05: Bridge Fight

What is the best way to cross a bridge? That depends on the circumstances. In case of a big bridge that used to support highways in pre-war days, like the one we are currently on, walking right in the middle is the safest bet. Since an assailant must fire upwards, even a flat surface can give us a good enough cover, and bigger the width, better the cover. Well, of course this will only work against enemies that are firing at us from the sides. So, why are we sticking to the southern side of the bridge, you ask? That is because, to the right of us, lays the Brotherhood of Steel controlled territory. Which gives us a security on the right, so we only have to worry about the left. Therefore, the more of the road on the left, the better.

"Now that everything has calmed down, let's start introducing ourselves. Shall we?" I said. "You start initiate."

"Yes sir. I am Initiate White." he began. "I was promoted to the rank two weeks prior, and my speciality is sniping, sir."

Ah, that explains his eagerness at the base.

"A sniper? Quite rare in the Brotherhood. Which makes your skill valuable. Next?"

A scribe with a dirty brown hair and rough skin looked around for a second and spoke. "Oh, me next then. I am apprentice scribe Loco Mayborn. Weird name eh? That's 'cause my parents were raiders. A paladin wiped out my parent's raider cell and took a pity on me. That's how I joined the Brotherhood."

An raider origin. Interesting.

Seeing that Mayborn finished, blond haired female scribe spoke up. "Journeyman scribe Rachel Collins, wasteland creatures specialist, sir." Subtly glaring at Mayborn, she continued. "Brotherhood since birth, sir!"

Great, a pure blood faction member… I hope this won't become a problem.

Right at that moment, I noticed a line of dark object lined across the bridge, approximately ten meters in front. I trained my eyes on the objects and raised my hand to unholster the hunting rifle, but stopped realizing that the objects are Brotherhood's anti-ugly plasma mines.

"well, me next then." Third scribe began. "My name is…" And the voice ceased.

I turned around to check what was wrong and to inquire why he stopped; but he was no longer there. Left? No. Right? Yes. And… also up? The scribe was at least five meters in the air, getting blown across to the other side of the bridge.

"King!" Collins shouted. Followed by a sound of loud splash, as the scribe hit the water. I ran to the other side of the bridge and leaned over the railing.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, few broken ribs but I can still swim. Meet you on the other bank." Replied the scribe. Wow, he must be tough. Getting hit by a sonic roar of a king mirelurk is no joke.

I returned to the southern side of the bridge just as Mayborn barely dodged another attack by the king. Damn, I was overconfident about the security provided by the Brotherhood. I should have taken into consideration the fact that the Brotherhood has no navy.

Everyone was now flat on the ground, determined not to get hit by the sonic attack. Initiate White was the first to counter attack with his sniper rifle. Quickly followed by the baseball cap scribe. Geez, it's like the wasteland is actively preventing me from learning his name.

"Ugh oh." Scribe Collins grunted worriedly, looking through her binoculars.

I quickly attached a scope onto my hunting rifle and took a glance through it. Immediately, I knew what she meant. At least five soft shells, 15 to 20 mirelurks, and not just one but three kings. We are going to be swarmed.

"Concentrate on the kings." I commanded.

Seconds later first king mirelurk succumbed to the hail of .308 bullets. Seeing their comrade fall, the remaining two kings fought back with their sonic bursts with increased ferocity.

One of the kings re-aimed, charging his sonic burst.

At the same time, the baseball cap scribe took aim with his scoped laser pistol and fired.

The king opened its mouth to fire the burst, but it was a moment too late.

Single beam of red flew straight towards the king's head. The beam met its target scorching and vaporizing the lower jaw of the king. No longer able to properly propel the burst, the built up sonic energy erupted. Instantly blowing its head off.

Eyes wide open, mouth agape, the initiate and I stared at the scribe and his weapon in shock and awe. We slowly turned our head to look at our weapons, a sniper rifle and a hunting rifle. Our movements were so comically synchronized that if a pre-war people saw us, they might think this was a comedy sketch.

"How the heck did he out snipe us?" I finally muttered.

Not to be out done by a pistol, Initiate White immediately returned to firing. The last king no longer stood a chance.

Unfortunately by this time, the mirelurk swarm has reached the base of the bridge. They began to climb the concrete support using their sharp claws and a spike of a leg.

Making sure that there are no more hostiles that can long range us, I stood back up. I walked toward the center of the highway, all the while holstering the hunting rifle and taking out the minigun.

Once I reached the median, I commanded to the group. "Everyone gather, prepare for close range combat."

Earlier than expected, first mirelurk, a soft shell appeared onto the road. Mayborn was the first to react. Taking out a reinforced steel pipe, he charged at the mirelurk. Grabbing the pipe in his right hand, he swung it from the bottom right to upper left, upper cutting it in the jaw. Without losing any momentum, he then swung it down crippling its right pincer. The soft-shell desperately counter attacked with its remaining pincer, which was easily dodged. Determined to finish it, Mayborn now gripped the pipe in both hands and readied it above his head for a final strike. Before the mirelurk recovered from its failed attack, he swung the pipe down with immense force. The pipe met its target in the head. A second later, the mirelurk fell to the ground; its head completely pulverised.

Unfortunately, by the time Mayborn finished, another five has finished climbing onto the road.

"Get down, scribe!" I shouted.

Forgetting to give the scribe a second to ducked, I immediately opened fire on the mirelurks with the minigun. The five mirelurks soon turned into green paste.

"Holy brahmin! You almost shot me too!" Mayborn exclaimed, with a expression of horror, from the ground where he was laying flat.

"Sorry, I mistaken you for a raider." I joked.

"Yeah, very funny." He grumbled.

"Sir, sorry to interrupt, but…" Collins said, pointing to the point where the mirelurks were coming up. And sure enough, new one has appeared and was climbing over the railing.

This time it was Initiate White that took action. A .308 round fired from his sniper rifle struck the mirelurk in the side. Its thick shell managed to stop the bullet from penetrating; but in exchange, it was knocked off of the railing and right back into the river.

"The next one is mine!" Collins exclaimed, taking out a cryo grenade from her backpack. She threw it towards the next mirelurk that showed its head. The grenade exploded just above the mirelurk, immediately freezing it in its place. The white mist of freezing death caught in the power of gravity, fell slowly down the side of the concrete support, freezing mirelurks and concrete alike.

As if on cue, a scribe carrying a laser rifle dashed towards the railing. My god, with all the commotion in the last hour, I completely forgot his existence. He fired, shattering the mirelurk that was frozen onto the railing. Once he reached the railing, he aimed the rifle down the support and fired rapidly, shattering any mirelurks frozen to it.

"It seems like their number has only increased." Said the scribe.

I jog upped to where he was, and took a look at the river. Some major nest must have hatched, because the river was filled with almost 50 mirelurks of different sorts. There were so many of them that the water in which they were swimming in was impossible to see.

"Just keep them from climbing." I told the scribe.

A sight like that might discourage most squires, initiates, and maybe even some knights. But me? I can always come up with the perfect solution. And right now, I remembered that the perfect solution to this problem has presented itself to me a few minutes ago. I dashed to where I saw the line of Brotherhood plasma mines were at, quickly locating one and grabbed it. Thankfully, it recognized me as a member of the Brotherhood and did not explode in my hand. By the time I returned to the railing, everyone had gathered there out of curiosity to what was down there.

"Initiate, once this hits the water; shoot it." I told White.

As soon as I reached the side of the bridge, I chucked the mine over the railing. Initiate White readied his sniper rifle. However, just before he was about to shoot, one perceptive mirelurk noticed the mine. It grabbed the mine midair and immediately dove into the water. Little did the mirelurk nor the rest of my group knew, this was a far better outcome than I hoped. The mine, now resting between the pincer of the mirelurk did not fail to detect the hostile mirelurks all around it.

"Damn, that didn't go as planned." The initiate said with visible disappointment.

"Well, what if it did? What can one plasma mine possibly do against legions of mirelurks?" Collins questioned, sighing defeatedly.

"Really? And you call yourself a scribe." A retort came, just as I was about to retort something similar.

At that second, faint glow of green entered our sights. The plasma mine has detonated. Immediately, gooifying the mirelurk that was holding it, and surround few as well. One thing every squires are taught is the combinations of environment and weapons that may result in massive and lethal backfire. And plasma and water is one very good example. As the mine detonated, the super heated, plasmafied particles shot across the water; ripping apart water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen. It only took a microsecond for a lone hydrogen particle to run into another.

"Oh, how stupid can I be!" Collins exclaimed with sudden realization.

A resounding boom shook the bridge. Massive orange inferno of hydrogen explosion engulfed the river. We retreat to the middle of the bridge to avoid the scorching heat. The screams of mirelurks can be heard from all around. No matter how thick or strong the shell is, there is no escape from being cooked by the nuclear heat.

"Behold, hydrogen explosion!" I shouted, bragging my brilliance to the rest of the group. I mean come on, it was brilliant right? It was totally paladin worthy right? How am I not getting promoted. I gotta complain to the elder once this pain of a mission is completed.

Mayborn chuckled at my remark. White rolled his eyes. "I hope we didn't attract any unwanted attention." Said Collins.

"Whoa, I think we are forgetting someone." I recalled. "Let's go get him."

* * *

Soon later, we were on our way off the bridge.

"Spotted." Collins said, looking through her binoculars.

The scribe somehow managed to swim about 20 meters upstream away from the battle. He was now sitting on the concrete bank of the river, his back resting on a wall.

"Something's not right." She informed.

"We shouldn't waste time following the road." The baseball cap scribe said, as he brandished a rope.

"All right start climbing down. Initiate, you guard the rear. I'll scout ahead." I told.

"Yes, sir."

Hearing the reply, I made a leap over the railing. I dropped to the concrete surface of the bank with a loud thud, power armor absorbing the shock of the fall. As I ran towards the fallen scribe, I noticed the color red surrounding him. Damn, he didn't tell me he was bleeding.

"Oh, shit." Was the only thing I can make out when I realized the state he was in.

A moment later, the laser rifle scribe caught up. Followed by a thud, meaning that everyone was now on the bank.

"God, what did this to him?" One of the scribes said from behind.

It was obvious that the fallen scribe managed to get here on his own, and was attacked. The cause of death is most likely from loss of blood, as he was missing his right leg.

A sound of power approaching, sounds like everyone is here. "We got a problem." I told.

"No shit. Was it a super mutant?" Mayborn asked.

Our fallen comrade was not a pretty sight to see. In his hand was a laser pistol, its coils utterly burned out from shooting too much. His face was morphed into a look of sheer terror. Closer inspection by scribe Collins revealed a large three claw marks across his chest. It was so deep that the middle one completely penetrated his body and left a mark on the concrete wall behind him.

At that moment everybody knew the answer.

Deathclaw.


	6. Chapter 06: Absence

Ch. 06: Absence

Everyone became tense. No one dared to make a sound. Instinctively making a circle, we scanned the surroundings for an imminent death.

"Shit, shit, shit! I don't wanna die, man." Mayborn exclaimed in a hushed voice, finally breaking the silence.

Not a very Brotherhoodly thing to do; but I can't really blame him. Only a crazy idiot would not be afraid of them. It's quite ironic that the stealthiest creature in the whole of capital wasteland is one of the largest creatures there is. It's size is comparable to a super mutant and only surpassed by a behemoth, it is incredibly stealthy that only thing that can out sneak it is the Lone Wanderer.

"Why... Why is there a deathclaw this far down south?" Collins stuttered, her voice hoarse and tears visible in her eyes.

She's right. This is super mutant territory. Just because deathclaws can shrug bullets off does not mean they like getting shot at. So, they usually stay to the north and away from the super mutant infested D.C. ruins.

"Enclave remnants?" The scribe with a laser rifle reasoned. It is perhaps a more likely explanation. They are know to utilize weaponized deathclaws, and boldly operate in super mutant territory.

"I doubt it. Look, there are no burn marks anywhere near him. If it was Enclave, they would have shot at him before the deathclaw got him. Initiate White refuted.

"Enclave or wild, staying here any longer is the last thing we should be doing. If it's Enclave, they know that we don't operate solo, so we may be in the middle of an ambush." I explained. I can see their faces becoming even more pale. I continued. "If it's wild, it looks like it hasn't finished its meal yet."

"Well what the hell are we still doing here? Let's go!" Mayborn shouted as he moved away from the scene; toward a set of steps leading up from the river bank to a road running parallel to the river.

Before he got too far, the baseball cap scribe grabbed his shoulder, putting a stop to his panic induced flee.

"Calm down, running out there frantically will only make us an easy target."

"He's right. Even if we run, we can't out run a deathclaw. Also, there is the matter of the green uglies. Our only advantage we have against them are our superior strategy and tactics. If we run, we ditch that advantage, and we'll be cut down faster than shishkebab through brahmin." I warned. "We'll head for the monument as fast as possible, and more importantly, as stealthily as possible."

Lowering my body into a crouching position, I move to and up the steps. I have seen the Lone Wanderer in action enough times that I can mimic his movement with precision. I am confident that even with the power armor on, I can keep hidden from the super mutants. Poking my head out just enough to see the road, I scanned for any threats. Couple of radroaches about five meters to the north. To the south, is just bunch of mirelurk carcases. Seeing that threat level is negligible, I crossed the road and climbed up the second set of steps. I poked my head above the top step, just enough to see beyond it. I once again repeated the process of scanning for any threats. Not much, just dead grass, some bush, and white stone building, which must be the Lincoln Memorial. I signaled my group, still waiting near the fallen scribe, to follow.

What struck me as odd at this moment is not the sight of anything but the eerie silence that was shrouding the Memorial. It is not unusual that no super mutants are spotted this side of the memorial since they make their home inside the park, or what they used to call the Mall. However, there should be sound of fighting. Few months ago, former slaves have started taking residence in the memorial, who are in constant struggle for survival against the super mutants.

"Creepy. It's so silent and empty..." Collins whispered.

"What? Isn't that good? That means no enemies right?" Mayborn questioned.

"I agree with Collins. I'd rather sneak past an enemy that I can see and hear, then sneak through a place that may or may not hide enemies." I replied.

The baseball cap scribe suddenly stood up. He's action seemingly filled with confidence, as if he was proving a point. He stood looking around for few seconds. Right before I moved to grab him and drag him down, he spoke.

"Doesn't any of you find all this a bit odd? I mean that explosion should have attracted at least half the wasteland's attention. Even if we didn't, the second we crossed that bridge, mutes should have shot at us. What about at the river bank, when we were at our most vulnerable. And me, standing here, in the open, like an idiot. Nothing!"

He explained, almost shouting towards the end. But, he was right. This whole mission is filled with oddities. Clever raider, mirelurk infestation, deathclaw this down south, and now missing super mutants. Let's pray that this is all just a coincidence.

"Huh, missing uglies. There's no reason not to take advantage of that." I said with a slight chuckle. The way I said it might be inappropriate at the moment, but increasing their concern by stating my opinion wouldn't help in this situation.

Noticing a long shadow cast by the scribe, I looked back towards the river, towards west. The sun was barely above the buildings on the other side of the river. The sun was already low enough, that the world is being stained orange. A sight under normal circumstances would be beautiful and even romantic.

Not good the last thing we want to face is a deathclaw in the dark. We have to get to the Brotherhood outpost as soon as possible. It seems that my dislike of traveling in the dark and want to be at the outpost by sunset, has turned into a need to travel while still light and necessity to be at the outpost by sunset.

"Wait, did anyone grab his dog tag?" Realizing my carelessness, I inquired the group. A dog tag may seem like just pieces of metal with names on it, but in record bringing back a dog tag makes the difference between _Killed in Action_ or _Missing in Action._ I have seen many loved ones of a lost brother or sister to know that these two distinction makes a world of difference to them. I do not need to see any more loved ones driving themselves crazy believing that their MIAs are still alive.

The group members look at each other and shaking their heads. Well, it seems like none of them did. Not their fault, after all, it was my responsibility as a team leader.

Groaning, I gestured them to stay and skipped down the steps, quickly reaching the concrete bank of the river. I turned left to head towards the fallen scribe, then I froze. The scribe's body was not where it should have been, or in fact anywhere that I could see.

"What the hell." I uttered, while I instinctively un-holstered and readied my minigun.

Only thing remaining where his body should have been was a large pool of darkening blood. There was a smear of blood leading away from the pool, which was a clear sign that he was dragged away. When, super mutants bring bodies back to its lair, they usually carry them intact over their shoulder or stuff them into a sack first, rather than dragging it. Also, given that the smear trail was parallel to the river means that it was not an act done by mirelurks. This proves two points; the baseball cap scribe's point about missing super mutants and my point about deathclaw being not finished with its meal.

Only seconds after I drew the minigun, I heard a metal on concrete footsteps coming closer. Initiate White must have realized that something was wrong, as he appeared next to me with his sniper rifle already on hand. I silently gestured with my head for him to follow, as I crouched into a sneak position and started moving towards where the blood trail lead. Fortunately, he got the message and simply nodded.

The trailed continued for about four meters and became spotty afterwards, and after about seven meters the trail was no longer visible. I cursed under my breath. The blood was mostly drained by the time the deathclaw dragged the body away and also it was turning viscous by that time as well. I hand signaled to the initiate to go up, on to the road running parallel to the bank. Better to have a sniper in a higher position, and in hindsight, I probably should have done this from the beginning. With a power armor assisted jump, the initiate climbed on to the road, which was about three meters higher. Once in position, he look around for any threats and when he was satisfied that there were no immediate danger, he used the scope on his sniper rifle to look further down the bank. He continued the search for few seconds but when he found nothing, he lowered his sniper rifle and shook his head.

* * *

"What was that all about. Did you recover it?" Just as I reached the bottom step, Rachel Collins stood up and shouted from the top. Seriously? Did she have to shout? She could have just waited for just few more seconds and I would have been within whispering range. Just because the deathclaw can't see us doesn't mean it can't hear us. I could not help but to cringe at her burst of stupidity.

Initiate White, who was on the road, which was one set of stairs higher, quickly made his way over to her and began scolding. Hmm… It seems that most of the scribes have never been on a field mission. Damn that Bigsley, I was asked to escort, not babysit.

By the time I rejoined the group, the sun has already sunk halfway behind the buildings. This whole ordeal has taken way longer than I preferred.

"His body was missing." I announced, as soon as the initiate finished his lecturing.

"What? H… how? Was he still alive?" Mayborn exclaimed. Huh? Is he serious? Did he not see the gaping hole in the fallen scribe's chest?

"Yes. Yes he was. He woke up from a nap and went down to the Tidal Basin to catch some fresh fish. No! Of course he's not alive! Like I said, the deathclaw was not finished with it's meal."

Oh, just look at me. A few seconds ago, I was criticising Collins for shouting, but now I'm doing the same. But I'm beginning to understand why the Lone Wanderer is agitated whenever he is at the Citadel.

"Sir. You are a little loud." White said.

"I know. I know. We leave. Now." I said annoyedly.

Without waiting for the group to ready themselves, I began walking towards Lincoln Memorial. Fortunately, they immediately followed suit. The tension caused by a lurking deathclaw must have been too much for them to relax.

There is only one more kilometer to the Washington Monument. Then, we will be in the safety of the second monument guard detachment and its outpost. Once there, I can report this mess to the Citadel, and maybe I will let Three Dog warn the D.C. populace of the danger as well. I can only hope that we can get there without any more confrontations.


	7. Chapter 07: Second Monument Guards

Ch. 07: Second Monument Guards

The Lincoln Memorial is… Well, I suppose it's just like any other buildings around. Meaning, pretty much destroyed. Although, the mostly intact pillars on the outside gives the impression that it still maintains its structural integrity, but the common wasteland feature of blasted out walls and roofs makes me question it; and of course, there are the sandbags. The symbol of wasteland structures. The basement, or the part that is underneath the marble structure, seems to be mostly spared from the nuclear blasts.

With my back to the back wall, I leaned in to take a peek into the memorial, using the crumbled part of the wall. Ah, there it is, the magnificent white obelisk. During pre-war era, it was a tribute to one of the founding fathers of the United States of America. Now, it serves as an antenna for the Galaxy News Radio. It may not sound like much, but in this hell called Capital Wasteland, it is the beacon of hope. Before it lies the Reflecting Pool. It was probably beautiful in the past, I can just imagine it, the clean water of the pool reflecting the clear blue sky. But now, it's just a giant tub, filled with murky green water polluted by radiation and centuries of abandonment, no longer able to reflect as it once did. Well, I suppose I could say it is reflecting the hearts of the wastelanders.

As I suspected, there are no signs of super mutants anywhere, or at least in sight. What's even odd is that there are no signs of Abolitionists either. There should be at least one or two patrolling the perimeter. Breaking cover, I walked into the memorial's interior, the group following immediately after. To the right of us stands the mighty statue of Abraham Lincoln, or in this case 'sits'.

"Hey, they remade its head." Mayborn commented, pointing at the statue's newly recreated head.

So they did. I heard that the abolitionists had a good mason. so it getting fixed was a matter of time. But, fixing the statue before walls or roof? If you ask me, I'd say their sense of priority is whacked.

As far as I can see, there are no evidence of them getting wounded or killed recently. That means that they either abandoned this place, which is unlikely, or hiding in the basement.

"Should we make contact with the Abolitionists sir?" Collins suggested.

Perhaps. I am curious as to why there are no super mutants around here, and maybe they have a clue on that. Also, they are our neighbor, so periodically saying hello won't hurt.

"Yes, it shouldn't take long." I replied.

The memorial was heavily fortified. The structure was built on top of a foundation that sticks out about three meters from the ground, making the assault only feasible by using the 20 meter wide set of steps, located in front of the structure. Making it even more formidable was the barricade made of sandbags that were placed strategically to defend against any hostiles that comes up those steps.

As we reached the front side of the memorial, I pointed to the two barricades located at the bottom of the foundation.

"Mayborn and you, the guy with the laser rifle, take up that position." I commanded.

They quickly obeyed.

At the middle of the steps was a landing, as the memorial itself is smaller than the foundation. There was the second line of defense; where three barricades were placed. I pointed to the one in the center.

"White, take that position. The rest, follow me."

The entrance to the basement is located below the landing on the southern side, which is the left side looking from the front, of the steps. We quickly made our way down to it.

"Hello, anyone in there?" I said, as I knocked on the door.

"What? What are you doing here! You wanna get killed or something?" A hushed female voice exclaimed.

"Is that a threat, or are you referring to the fact that you all are huddled up in there?" I inquired, half jokingly. "To answer your question, no. But, this lack of green uglies are positively boring me to death." I replied with a touch of sarcasm. I know this is an inappropriate time for any joke, but I just can't help it.

"What? No, I'm talking about a deathclaw." The voice replied.

"Are you saying that the deathclaw drove off the super mutants?" "That's unlikely." Collins interjected and inquired.

Sudden thud of power armor hitting the ground drew my attention away from the conversation. I moved away from the door in order to look up, to check on the initiate. The initiate was crouching on the other side of the barricade, pointing his sniper rifle towards the hole in the western wall, where we entered the memorial.

Then I heard it. The noise was was faint, even with the amplifier on the helmet, but it was distinct. I recognized it immediately. Bone scratching against stone, and that only meant one thing.

"You haven't introduced yourself…" A voice came from the other side of the door, this time male.

"Shut up. We're the friendly neighborhood metal men and we're about to have company." I faintly yelled at him. Fortunately, they got my meaning and stopped talking without any fuss.

The ground shook, followed by an air ripping roar. A typical intimidation tactic used by deathclaws; I can just imagine commies pissing their pants.

"Friend of yours?" I jokingly said as I jokingly knocked on the door.

I can sense Collins shooting me a murderous glare. I'm sorry, the freaking deathclaw set himself up and I couldn't help it.

"Shit, it saw me!" White said as he looked down the scope of his sniper rifle.

He proceeded to squeeze the trigger. A .308 round shot out of the barrel, towards the deathclaws head. Even though the bullet was hurtling at an incredible speed, to us who had our full attention focused on it, it seemed as it was travelling at crawling pace. A moment later, the it hit the target… on the horn… and ricocheted.

"Running would be a good idea." I said nonchalantly.

Mayborn was the first to bolt, followed immediately after by Collins. White stood his ground, carefully aiming for a second shot. I moved away from the door, and back on to the steps.

"Fall back Initiate!" I commanded as I pulled out my minigun.

He fired the second shot before retreating. The bullet hit its right shoulder; not causing much damage but managed to slam it with enough force to stagger it. This gave everyone enough time to put some distance between it.

Once the initiate had retreated behind me, I let my minigun shred the air. Dozens of bullets tore through the air to hit the deathclaw, although most of them just ended up bouncing off. However, this also had the effect of slowing its movement and prevented it from charging. I took this opportunity to slowly walk backwards; keeping a constant distance between myself and the deathclaw.

After couple minutes of constant barrage, the barrels begun to glow red. Again, the deathclaw staggered.

"I'll cover you, sir!" The initiate shouted.

Seeing that it was enough to keep the deathclaw at bay, I stopped firing. I immediately turned around and dashed to where the initiate was firing. This gave the minigun enough time to cool down.

The sniper rifle has more punch, but the slower rate of fire and the faster need for reload makes it difficult to slow down the deathclaw to a comfortable level. By the time I got into position to fire again, the deathclaw has closed the distance to just 15 meters. As I begun to fire again, the initiate dashed to further back, and I also commenced a slow retreat. We were able to repeat this process one more time.

"Shit. I'm out of ammo." Initiate White exclaimed.

I was able to expand the distance between us and the deathclaw, but we still had around 200 to 250 meters to the outpost. That's not good. Sure, we could try running. With the assist from the power armor, we can run 100 meters in just 10 seconds, but anyone that has lived in the wasteland long enough can tell you that nothing can outrun a deathclaw. To make things worse, I'm running low on ammo as well.

Then, suddenly, with a flash of yellow and red, followed by white smoke and black shrapnel, the deathclaw exploded. Well, it seemed like it, but the reality is not so easy on us. In actuality, the ground beneath it exploded, which covered it in flame, debris, and shrapnel. Ah, of course, just because the super mutants were concentrated on the capitol building side, there is no way the monument guards will leave this side of the monument undefended. I must have been so concentrated on shooting the damn thing, I didn't notice the Brotherhood tagged frag mine.

A second later, the deathclaw came out of the remaining dust cloud, looking royally pissed. Thankfully, the mine did it's job and the deathclaw was limping on its left leg. To make things worse for the deathclaw, it was struck by a beam of laser. Seeing that we are more trouble than we're worth, it turned around and fled. Even though its leg was crippled, it was still able to run with frightening speed.

"I heard from scribes what happened. You guys okay?" A voice came from behind us.

We turned around to face the source of the voice. Standing there was a figure in an impressive chrome finished T-51b power armor; the gatling laser in his hand making the figure more imposing.

"Paladin. Thank you for your assistance sir." The initiate was the first to speak.

"I could have handled that." I mumbled under my breath.

"What's that, knight?"

"Let's go initiate." I told the initiate. "Saved by a monument guard. How low have I fallen." I commented. Even with the helmet on, I can just tell that initiate has an confused face. So, I decided to explain. "You see, when you get relegated in the brotherhood, you end up as a Three Dog's lackey. That's why he is protecting a monument and not primary nor secondary interest of the brotherhood."

"Speak for yourself, knight." The paladin retorted.

"And what exactly does that mean?" I said confused, but I ignored his comment; deciding that thinking about it is too much of a pain.

I walked passed the paladin towards the outpost, followed by the initiate not too close. Probably because, he is shocked that a knight can talk about a paladin in such manner, right in front of one.

* * *

At the base of the monument, is a shack made of metal bits and pieces. It is probably used as a cafeteria, Which can be assumed from the pile of pre-war meals stacked on one side, and the kitchen set that screams 'Made In Megaton' shoved in the other. At the center is an oblong table and a dozen chairs. The room is dimly lit by candles on the table and fusion cell powered lamps on the walls.

Sitting at the tip of the table is the head guard. Flanking him on both sides are two other guards, one of which are the chrome paladin that drove off the deathclaw. On the opposite tip is me. Sitting beside me on the right is the Initiate, and to the left of me sits the base ball cap scribe.

"All right, tell us what's going on." One of the guards spoke.

"I would like to ask the same, actually." I countered.

"You first." The chrome paladin said.

Noticing that I was about to make a retort, Initiate White spoke first. "Uh sir, the trouble started just 30 minutes after we left the Citadel…" He continued to recount the journey up to this point.

"A smarter than usual raider, mirelurk infestation, and an out of place deathclaw? All in the first day?" Came a shocked voice.

"Well there's our story. Now my turn. Where are the uglies?" I asked.

The room went quiet.

"We don't know." Finally one of the guards spoke.

"What?"

"Yesterday night, we went to bed with the lullaby of mute's war cries; next morning, nothing."

"You're joking right?" I said shocked. Looking at each guard's face, I continued. "You can't all have been asleep."

An awkward silence followed.

"Huh, what did I tell you White. These may be paladins, but they're no elites." I said pointing at the guards.

"Says the one that purposefully abandoned patrol duty on multiple occasion."

"Well, yes. But, that was when the Lone Wanderer came through the area. Given how thoroughly he cleans out the area, any patrol was redundant."

"Oh? Do our brethren at the Citadel need an outsider to secure the parameter? Pathetic."

"Enough!" The head guard finally spoke. His deep and commanding voice resonating through the room. "We have already notified our situation to the headquarter. I am astounded that you have not heard of our situation before you set out. No matter, I will also notify them of your situation. You may take shelter here tonight, and resupply for the rest of your mission." He continued, without giving us a chance to respond.

"Thank you, sir!" I responded. It may be out of my character to address someone as 'sir', but from the tone of his voice, I figured that he is not a man to mess with.

"Dismissed."

Everyone, except for the head guard, stood up to leave.

"Knight, you stay." The head guard said, as I was about to leave the room.

Once I sat back down on the chair and everyone has left the room, he spoke. "I was not notified that you would be visiting here. Which means that you are intending on obtaining this, are you not?" He finished by gesturing to an object in front of him.

"Ahh, how insightful of you. I guess I don't have to sneak into the armory anymore."

"Oh? Who said anything about simply handing them over to you. These are not cheap you know. And if I recall correctly, your mission is an escort. I do not see how these can be utilized."

"Look at it this way. An escort mission requires smart tactics to safely deliver the V.I.P to their destination, and smart tactics require infinite imagination, and that must be fueled by equally large amount of equipment. When it comes to the amount of equipment, there is no such thing as 'too much'."

"Really? I am sure that the famed Lone Wanderer will dispute you on that; with his tale of how many times he has been tormented by an 'extra pound'."

"True, but there is one major difference between him and me. As his title suggest, he travels alone. On the other hand, I have several scribes to carry my stuff. Besides, it's not going to be utilized here either."

"Very well, but only one. You better not waste it. And if anyone asks, you did not get it from me."

"Deal. You can be assured, I'll keep your secret stash a secret. As I always do."

* * *

The dinner was held about an hour later in the same room as the meeting.

"Damn you, for making my job difficult. Did you have to come here without notice?" Said the chrome paladin, as soon as I entered the room. It appears that he is in charge of preparing dinner tonight.

"Anything to annoy you, chrome." I responded, as I made my way towards the table; where the rest of my group has already gathered.

"I have a name, you know."

"You never bother to tell me."

"You never bother to learn!"

"Oh, that reminds me. We should continue the introduction we had. Last time we tried, we were so rudely interrupted by those mirelurks." I said, turning my head to face the group.

"What!? You still don't know each other's names? Shouldn't you have done that during briefing?"

"Look, the hindsight is 20/20, all right? I wanted to get away from the Citadel and its menial tasks as fast as possible. I was thinking of doing introductions on the road." I retorted. Returning my attention to the group, I continued. "Let's start with you, baseball cap."

"Yes sir. I am Gerald Miller. Scribe, mechanical armor expert. Formerly a knight. I became nearsighted. So, I retired from the military."

"Military retiree. So, that's why there are so many scribes. You next, the guy with the laser rifle."

"I'm scribe initiate Max Dalton, electrical engineer, sir."

"Okay, is that everyone?"

"You haven't introduced yourself yet, sir." Collins spoke up.

"You can just call me Knight." I replied with a smirk.

"Oh, they have no idea. Do they?" The chrome paladin said to me knowingly.

"Hm! He's an unfriendly one, isn't he?" Collins said to White.

White, who looked confused, most likely because of the paladin's remark, was staring at the paladin, simply ignored or didn't even notice her.

"No, they do not." I replied to the paladin, almost burst out laughing.

No, no. Revealing my name to them now, won't produce much of a reaction. I have to wait for a better timing. Well, let's just say that when people say 'Knight', I don't know whether they are referring to my rank or not.

"Now that introductions are out of the way. Finish your dinner fast, and get some rest. We'll be leaving early tomorrow. Remember, proper rest is required to keep yourselves from getting injured. I don't want this mission to get dragged out longer than it is necessary, because some of you have gotten injured and we had to wait for treatment." I gave a moment of silence for my words to sink in. Then, I continued. "Actually, maybe not. From the way things have gone today, you might simply skip the injury part, and go straight to death. That would save me a lot of time."

"Wow, this is the reason why you're not getting promoted. The disregard and apathy for your fallen comrade." The chrome paladin said from the side.

"Really? And here I was, thinking that it was because of my attitude towards superiors, and complete disregard for any and all military procedures." I said with a fake surprised look.

"That too." Came the reply, accompanied b a disapproving look.

* * *

Just as I set it, the alarm clock rang at 5:00 a.m. What is up with these pre-war machines? They've been nuked for pete's sake, and it still functions? How is that even possible? The room in which I woke up, eerily resembles a solitary confinement. The floor is made of metal, which cools to an cruel degree during the night. The walls are barely 6 feet apart; just enough for me to lie down diagonally. I knew that Washington Monument fort won't have enough room for my entire group, but how did I end up being the one sleeping in the elevator? I never thought I would have to put on my power armor in this cramped place, I might become claustrophobic.

When I came out of the elevator, which was about half an hour later, my group had already assemble at the main gate.

"Wow, he wasn't kidding when he said he doesn't follow military procedures." Collins said with a mock surprise.

"What do you expect? It's me. There is no way I'm waking up anytime earlier than five."

"Weren't you the one that wanted to leave early?"

"Yeah, yeah. There's limit to everything, you know. Whatever, let's just go."

And begins the second day of our hectic journey.


End file.
